


A Bloody Good Time

by russiansimp



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: And Lots of It, Blood, Blood and Injury, Far Future, Future Fic, Imposters, Infection, Multi, Murder, Outer Space, Science Fiction, Violence, Virus, cannibalism at some point, kinda dead dove depending on how comfy with blood you are, so much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26707489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/russiansimp/pseuds/russiansimp
Summary: “Join the expedition,they said,it will be fun,they said.”That was all anyone could think. A delayed launch was certainly not how anyone in the crew wanted to start off this trip. And for any paranoid crewmates, it was just a sign that they shouldn’t be going at all. It all seemed kind of rushed and dangerous. Why were they being sent up? A vague,investigation of extraterrestrial life forms.Which station were they going to?That’s classified information.Sounded like a load of horseshit to them.
Relationships: Imposter/Imposter (Among Us), Pink/Yellow (Among Us), Red/White (Among Us)
Kudos: 30





	A Bloody Good Time

**Author's Note:**

> I finally broke and did it I wrote an AU fic
> 
> Yes I made being an imposter an infection. Yes it works almost exactly like Tokyo ghoul. Sue me.

“ _Join the expedition,_ they said, _it will be fun,_ they said.”

That was all anyone could think. A delayed launch was certainly not how anyone in the crew wanted to start off this trip. And for any paranoid crewmates, it was just a sign that they shouldn’t be going at all. It all seemed kind of rushed and dangerous. Why were they being sent up? A vague, _investigation of extraterrestrial life forms._ Which station were they going to? _That’s classified information._

Two of them had already dropped the mission entirely, leaving only ten rookie astronauts to man the now vacant station in the scattered disc, just beyond Eris. Nearly a century ago, the trip would have taken over a decade to complete. But now, it would be an easy five years, and the crew would be in hypersleep the entire time. No waiting, just a nap and an IV in your arm keeping you alive for years. Their temperatures would be lowered down into the range of clinical death, while certain meds and chemicals would keep their brains alive and their bodies healthy.

It seemed a more desirable option to just waiting around in a rocket for as long. And every crewmate on this mission really needed the money it would give, needed the solace it would bring, the acclaim they would receive. This mission was goddamn sloppy seconds for the guys who couldn’t get to the settlement on Mars.

Not to mention the odd identification system they were given. A color. And they were only referred to as their color, at least, by everyone but the rest of the crew. They were no longer people, but things.

Like Logan. A rather eccentric crewmate, with minimal training in astral biology. They were brought onto the mission for livelihood, first and foremost, a paramedic.

Less of a paramedic, but mostly the general doctor for the next six years in this station. They didn’t like to be referred to as ‘White,’ but they didn’t want the others to refer to them as Logan, either. The sad coincidence that their full name, Logan Lecter, would pin them as ‘Dr. Lecter,’ left them known among the others as simply: Doc.

Waking up was terrible. A rumbling, hit on the head, unsealing of a pod, and a hefty dose of epinephrine through their IV to wake them up.

Logan woke with a start, hitting their head on the glass door of their pod. They groaned, reaching up to rub the point of impact. Their hands were freezing, and their vision was fuzzy. It took them a minute to even remember where they were, why they were there, and who they were there with. As they took a look around at the other crewmates, all donned in color-coded suits with the hair to match, all reacting differently to the sudden rush of adrenaline, they sighed gently, looking down to the IV catheter in their arm.

There was no doubt that would leave them with a severe case of phlebitis. Well, them, and the rest of the crew. The bruising would be insane.

“Shit,” they heard one mutter. Right beside them, a boy clad in red. They stared for a moment before remembering his name. Or, they thought they remembered his name. Their head was telling them ‘Killian,’ but they weren’t confident enough in that to greet him.

They ripped off the tape securing their IV to their skin, quickly pulling the tubing out and bending their arm to keep pressure on the site. If they remembered correctly, their suits were in the next room.

“Doc,” Killian interjected, climbing out of his pod. “Take an assessment on everyone, would you?” They stared at him for a moment. Right. He was the captain.

“How are you already so—” their statement was halted by a yawn. “So cognizant?”

“Five years of sleep will do wonders to your attitude! Now, would you mind getting this thing out of my arm, and I’ll go collect the tanks.”

“Yeah, yeah,” they nodded. They thought for a moment, before walking to the storage at the edge of the room, pulling out the basic first aid kit they’d packed for this exact reason. They pulled on some long gloves, snapping the beads in place, before grabbing some gauze, bandages, and antiseptic.

“Why weren’t you so careful with your own?” Killian asked, as they set to removing the device. He hissed at the unfamiliar sensation.

“I can’t infect myself with my own blood,” Logan shrugged, and while they were this close, took a peek at his embroidered name tag. Yep, Killian.

Once they had securely wrapped the site, they left him, changing their gloves to start working on everyone else. They didn’t really know why _they_ had to be the one to do it—really, how hard was it to pull a tube out and put a band-aid on it?

Using a pen light, they checked each crewmate’s eyes, deeming them all to be alert. There were a couple though, that seemed rather disoriented, namely yellow and pink, that they didn’t feel comfortable with making the trek through to the station right now. They sat down with pink, beginning to check her reflexes. When they tapped below her popliteal, and her leg shot out, she began giggling. _You know what, now that I’m taking a look at her, how old is this kid? She doesn’t even look old enough to have finished college._

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” They asked.

“Cora,” she answered confidently. They checked her tag. Checked out.

“Cool. Uh…” they couldn’t exactly use most of their assessment questions. None of them knew the date, any of the current world leaders, or what day of the week it was. “Cool.” After making sure she was physically stable, she moved to yellow.

“Hey, kid, what’s your name?” They asked, flashing their light in his eyes.

“Uh…” he followed the light, then blinking rapidly. “Aurelio…”

“You sure ‘bout that?”

“I… yeah,” he nodded. Their eyes darted to his tag.

“Okay. Can you tell me your mama’s name?”

“Why?”

“Please?”

“Allison.”

“Pretty,” they nodded. He was probably just tired.

They moved back to their pod, sitting on the edge as they packed their stuff back up. Killian came about to give them their equipment and talk, they supposed. He set down their suit, which was vacuum sealed in a bag, along with their helmet and oxygen equipment. “How was your nap, Doc?” He asked.

“You’re awfully talkative, captain.”

“Awe, no need for those formalities,” he waved it off.

“...You are awfully talkative, Killian.”

“That, I am.”

“And I'm not going to be able to escape casual conversation with you, am I?”

“Ever the scholar, you are.”

“God, I’d fucking hope so. Imagine, the only medic onboard being a dumbass. Doesn't bode well.”

“Language,” he chided playfully. They rolled their eyes.

“Aurelio should be good to go after like, ten minutes. Cora’s a little out of it, but she’s alert and decently aware. I've got a feeling they weren't getting enough O2 in their pod, but I can't check for shock properly until I have a medbay to use equipment.”

“Sounds good, Doc!” He nodded. “And what about you? What’s that nosebleed about?”

“Nosebleed?” They asked. They reached up to touch their face, and pulled away to find their hand covered in blood. How had they not felt that? If anything, they should have felt that there was something on their face. “Jesus, I don't know. I didn’t even notice.”

Killian grabbed some gauze from the still open kit, gently pressing it against their face. “Probably some whacky pressure changes.”

“I'm not too worried about it,” they mumbled, replacing his hand with their own. “Thanks, though.”

“For sure. If you wanna stay behind with me to make sure Cora and Aurelio get by safely, that'd be great. Maybe we could each leash one of them.”

“Seems like a solid plan,” they nodded. “Could you make sure their suits are secure before they go?”

“I could,” he nodded, pushing himself to stand.

As Killian walked away, they wiped the blood from their face and hands, frowning at the bits that were already dry. It took them a minute to get their gear on, but they were eventually ready, holding their helmet under their arm. When they saw Killian had checked Cora over, they approached her, and held out the connecting leash. “Hey, hon, I'm gonna clip you onto myself so you don't float away. Sound good?”

“Mhm!” She hummed. She lifted her arms, allowing Logan to clip the connector on. Before they led her to the exit chamber, they flashed Killian a quick smile. 

“Try to be quick, Cap.”

**Author's Note:**

> All characters except for Killian and Logan are puns of their colors so it will be easy to know who is who, I hope!


End file.
